


Deafening Silence

by MajorAndMarquis



Category: 18th Century - Fandom, Historical Fiction, Kitty Sparks - Fandom, Sam Fleet - Fandom, Thomas Hawkins - Fandom, Thomas Hawkins series - Fandom
Genre: 1700s, 18th Century, 18th century london, F/M, Historical, One Shot, Short One Shot, The Silver Collar, Thomas Hawkins series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25801525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorAndMarquis/pseuds/MajorAndMarquis
Summary: Set during events of The Silver CollarOne shot: Sam wonders the city reflecting back on events and coming to terms with things that have happened.
Relationships: Thomas Hawkins & Sam Fleet, Thomas Hawkins/ Kitty Sparks
Kudos: 2





	Deafening Silence

The snow seemed colder than before. Which he knew was impossible.  
The snow was no colder then as it had been the previous day, or the day before that or even the day before that. But it felt it.  
He thrust his hands into his thinning pockets, for once feeling the numbing of his fingertips. He didn’t like it. His hands were useful, the cold was not- and neither was the aching in his chest. It was of no use to him, yet no matter how many streets he walked or times he wrapped his coat around him, it remained. Heavy and dull and sinking to the pit of his ever-hungry stomach.

_Useless._

He thought for at least the tenth time in the last five minutes. Sam was not useless. But whatever was causing the heaviness within him, that was useless, and Sam had no time for useless.

_Kitty brushing your hair. That’s useless._

But he allowed a momentary grin at the memory. There had been one occasion where she had been trying for well over a week. Lingering in the shadows, hiding behind doors thinking that Sam was unaware of what she was doing. He allowed her that moment of satisfaction, let her think that for once he hadn’t heard her skirts rustle as she changed from foot to foot in anticipation, or that the very thin walls allowed him to hear more than just her and Thomas’s nightly endeavours.  
“I swear Tom, I will have brushed that mop of his by the end of this week…maybe the month”  
A few days short of the end of the month, sure enough Sam had been descending the stairs in his silent manner when he had heard Kitty appear behind him, chasing him. Somehow, it had ended with them manoeuvring round the scarred kitchen table with Kitty brandishing her brush at him  
“Just once! That’s all I ask”  
As if showing him there was nothing to fear, she thrust the brush into view and nodded in encouragement.  
“See. Harmless”  
He knew it was harmless. It was a matter of principle.  
Yet in the end, she got the better of him. It was a one off. Something that he had of course allowed. That’s what he insinuated to Tom when he had asked him, Sam had just shrugged. What transpired, was Kitty practically leapt round the side of the table and wrestled him into her arms. She held the locks of his hair in one hand and somehow had managed to snag a brush through the ends with the other.

_____Useless. Yes. But I like it._ ____

Yet at the thought of Kitty, he felt a pang in his chest once more. A throb. A dull ache. Kitty. She had been gone for so long. He could hear her screams and calls for help, the ache as he was held to the ground and the sound of Tom’s voice calling out for her. His hands clenched in his pockets at the memory. The cold bite of the wind seemed to caress the seared mark on his cheek where that “woman’s” hand had slapped him.

_____A Fleet never forgets.___ _ _

Sam had not forgotten. It was burned into his memory. Every detail of her face. The dulled red of her hair. The stitch of her clothing. The staggering smell of her floral pomade and perfume. The empty madness in her eyes. The slap. She’d taken Kitty from him. From Thomas. The slap. Oh yes, he had not forgotten at all.

_______Thomas.___ _ _ _ _

This time Sam’s feet staggered and scuffed the snow as he came to a halt. The heaviness in his chest overwhelming as he recalled the last time he had seen or heard from Thomas. The shot to his arm, the heaviness in his shoulders at killing a man that had shot at him first.

_________Murder don’t suit you. Sits on you too heavy.___ _ _ _ _ _ _

That’s what Sam had said. He had been right. He was still right.

___________No. Sam.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

That’s what he had said. No. Sam. That was one of the last times he had heard him say his name. How long had it been? Nearly two months. Sam had been keeping count on the walls of his SoHo room. A little etch into the wood with each passing day that Tom had not returned. Another tally for how many days Kitty had been missing. A third for the days that had passed since that woman has slapped him. 

_____________Too long._____________

That’s what he had said to his mother as he sat round the table that morning, ignoring the bowl she had placed in front of him. Gabriela, however, was of another opinion.

_______________“The man is a coward. He will not have killed himself- even if he has, it saves your father from doing the deed himself”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Sam had not taken kindly to his mother’s words and she knew it when he shirked her arm from his shoulders and stepped away from her before she could kiss his head. That was why he had left that morning. Grabbing his coat and ignoring the call of his mother to come back. He had been trailing to streets for hours. Walking up and down, watching the early morning events unfold. The maids heading for the market stalls before their masters woke for their breakfast. The staggering occupiers leaving their night of indulgence, eyes adjusting from the darkness of the taverns and bawdy houses to the sudden brightness of the snow filled streets. The bawds would be heading out to find their latest victims. Fresh girls looking for something more in the great city. Sniffing out the fresh culls for their girls awaiting back at the bawd house. So early and yet the city was already alive. Yet despite the hours watching and following, Sam found he still hadn’t been able to resolve the storm inside him.

_________________Should have stayed with him. Sits too heavy.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The city carried on, the people carried on, unaware that there was so much wrong. There had been plenty of them around when they wanted to hang Tom, they had lined the streets, read his ‘last words’. Yelled and cheered when he swung. Where were they now? They had all been outside when that man, that ‘lawman’- Gonson. He had made them burn their papers and books.

___________________Remember him___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The dull thud in Sam’s chest beat again as he looked up and realised, he had stopped outside of the boarded shop. The order nailed to the door, windows and doors covered with boards and the sign creaking in the winter breeze. The Cocked Pistol. Their home. His home. Now vacant and silent. The scorched cobbles buried beneath the snow, as if buried by the time that had passed since he had last stepped inside.

_____________________You can stay with us. You can have your own room.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Tom had said he could stay. This could be his home with them- Tom, Kitty and the baby. It would be the four of them. He hoped for a boy. Then he would teach him all the ways of the streets, all the things that Sam knew. He would make sure the baby was safe.

_______________________Where are you?___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Sam stared at the empty building until his dark eyes burnt with the cold and he had to look away. His hands clenching into fists once more, the heaviness in his chest consuming his body as he felt a single streak of heat and dampness fall from his closed eyes and down his cheek. He turned and marched his way down the street, trying to outrun the feeling that was over taking him. It was useless. Sam didn’t like useless things. For once he didn’t like the silence.

_________________________It’s been too long. I’ll find them.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

He would find them. He would bring them home. He was Sam Fleet and a Fleet never forgets.


End file.
